


Headless

by Gemi



Category: gen:LOCK (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Detailed description of Cammie's head incident, Gen, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 18:37:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17730485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemi/pseuds/Gemi
Summary: Having your head pulled off is never pleasant.





	Headless

The claws of the _thing_ dig in, and it’s pain like she has never felt before. The scream is forced out of her, _ripped_ out, as the claws scrape and drag against the plating of her head. It echoes weirdly inside her brain, or the computer meant to _be_ her brain.   
  
It’s grabbing her head. It’s _pulling_ her head, far too long, far too much. She wants to cry, but that is an impossible thing to do in a holon. Even screaming feels like static bursting through her windpipes, and she wonders if this is what the spy- what _Sinclair_ -felt when he fried his brain.  
  
She wants her team, her friends, to come. She thinks that briefly and in a panic, and then the thought is washed away as something _pulls_ in her neck. In her throat. Wires, she knows. Cables, all the way down and through what should be her shoulders. Pulled until they hurt and burn and strain, little crackling pops of static and electricity that add that tiny bit more pain. One snaps.  
  
She can’t stop screaming; even as her throat is _breaking_ , being torn apart, she can’t _stop_. The HUD, her vision, is blaring red and loud, telling her it’s too much, that she must immediately stop the pain by any means necessary.  
  
But her fingers only slide off the other holon’s claws. She can’t grasp at it like it grasps at her, and her vision is growing into static, she can’t _see_. There’s the red light from the holon above her, piercing through the static. She tries to kick, and hits nothing. Her legs used to feel too long, but now they’re too short.  
  
It is staring at her.  
  
It’s not at all like how the others stare when they are in _their_ holons. Their holons have eyes. They can squint and grow wide, and there is something comforting and _human_ about it all. This thing stares like it doesn’t know she can feel what it is doing.  
  
It stares down like she is nothing. Or, perhaps, like she is one of her own little projects, ready to be torn apart to make something _new_.  
  
Something pops; something very loudly, awfully tears, and her vision goes black.  
  
A sob escapes her; somewhere, tears run down red cheeks as she struggles in another place.  
  
Cameron MacCloud can’t breathe. She can’t see.  
  
She can’t _hear_.  
  
She can only feel the wires and cables sparking as they stick out from where her head should be; she can feel the vibrations as the fight goes on, and she cries and screams and _hopes_ that the _thing_ won’t tear her apart more.  
  
 _“I can’t see!”_ she cries into the dark, quiet void, scrambling, until Yaz’s voice cuts through the static of it all. A burst of connection that Cammie grabs frantically, Yaz’s voice comforting where it was always foreboding.  
She can see her holon’s body, _her_ body, twitching on the ground. Headless, and she wants to throw up. But Yaz’s voice is there, soothing, and Cam wishes that she could blackout. The program forces her to stay awake.   
  
Cam tries to grab at Yaz’s arm the way she couldn’t grab at the _thing_ , but she misses once, twice. Three times. It’s weird and clumsy, because her body is still hers, but it’s slow and her eyes aren’t. It’s disorienting, seeing her body move from Yaz’s eyes. It’s _wrong_. But she eventually manages to clutch at the hand holding her down, trying to calm her down. Cammie’s screaming trails off into quiet sobs.  
  
She’s fine, she tells herself.  
  
She doesn’t _feel_ fine. 


End file.
